


You are My Rose

by wisoldier



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Betrayal, Friendship, Heartbreak, Love, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-01
Updated: 2015-06-25
Packaged: 2018-04-02 06:02:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4048939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wisoldier/pseuds/wisoldier
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes love tears you apart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I Will

The Brooklyn Bridge stood in stark grey against a clear blue sky. The currents of the East River thrashed against the large pillars of the bridge, while tourists and locals alike milled about on the raised pedestrian walkway above the roaring traffic.

Shimmering water lapped against the jutting wood of the Navy Yard docks. The water shimmered, and shimmered again. The water continued shimmering excessively, industrial equipment thrown into shadow against its brightness.

On Ellis island, Lady Liberty stood magnificent on her pedestal, her torch held high. Tourists crowded along the base of the landmark, snapping pictures and reveling in her enormity. 

Once again the water of the Hudson shimmered, this time against the towering skyline of Manhattan. The buildings were hazy against the bright sun, the smog of the day contrasting with the brilliant sunshine reflected off of the water.

Below the Williamsburg Bridge, a ferry chugged along, carrying sunburnt but thrilled tourists who looked up at the splendor of Midtown. Horns blared and curses were shouted in the perpetual traffic jammed onto the bridge. The tourists continued their day, unaware of the expressions of rage far above their heads. 

Again, shimmering water. Water so shimmering that the skyline of what is obviously and excessively New York City became indistinct and hazy.

Prospect Lake, duller and thankfully less reflective than the aforementioned rivers, sat amongst bountifully green trees, their leaves tussled by the faint yet refreshing summer breeze. The columns of the Boathouse were white and stately on an uncrowded and peaceful day in the park. White birds flapped about, some resting on the water while others flapped lazily overhead. 

From above, the Williamsburgh Savings Bank Tower stood proudly above scenic downtown Brooklyn. This oddly specific building is a symbol in its own right and makes it clear that Brooklyn is being described. 

The pleasant row houses of Park Slope were built on streets lined with stately trees and flower beds sprouting beautiful blossoms. The stoops and sidewalks were quiet, birds chirping punctuated by the occasional bark of a dog. 

Finally, the G train burst out from the tunnel and into the open air on the bridge. Bucky Barnes sat on the right side of the train, a small smile on his face as he looked out of the window. He could see the faint outline of the Statue of Liberty visible on the horizon. He toyed with the ribbon of the wrapped present he held in his hands. His long, lank hair fell into his face, and the oversized, ill-fitting suit he wore made his head look small in comparison to his padded shoulders. His sunglasses obscured his face. He shifted in his seat, waiting for the train to stop, anxious to get home to Steve. 

Once he arrived home, he took a moment to look up at the brownstone where he and Steve resided, proud to provide for his boyfriend. He knew that one day he could buy Steve a house, once they were married, but for now they rented out a nice apartment near the park using the money he earned from his position at the bank. He snapped out of his expositional reverie, suddenly impatient to be inside. 

Bucky burst through the door, hands behind his back. “Hi babe!” He shouted zealously, “I have something for you!”  
 Steve Rogers pushed himself up from the brown couch where he’d been lounging listlessly amongst their plush fur pillows. He had a wide grin on his face at Bucky’s arrival.

“What is it?” Steve asked coyly with a thinly veiled excitement, grabbing awkwardly at Bucky’s elbows. 

“Just a little something,” slurred Bucky out of the corner of his mouth. Steve attempted to grab at the box behind Bucky’s back. The pair chuckled playfully, Bucky maneuvering away from Steve to keep him from getting at the present. After a few seconds, however, he yielded the box to Steve, who puffed up his cheeks and rolled his eyes in an “oh, you” expression at his boyfriend.   The wrapping paper was cheetah print with a large red bow adorning the top. Steve scrabbled helplessly against the wrapping paper, before eventually realizing that he could simply remove the top of the box without struggle.

Steve gasped when he opened the box. Inside was a star spangled outfit, skin tight and red, white, and blue. 

“Bucky, its beautiful, thank you,” Steve whispered gratefully. He held it up against himself, when suddenly his face broke out into a grin. “Can I try it on now?”

“Sure, its yours,” Bucky said, giving Steve a once over.

“You wait right here,” Steve pulled on Bucky’s tie, pulling him into a chaste kiss. “I’ll try it on right now.”

Steve smiled at Bucky then left the room. Bucky sighed happily and trundled over to the couch, tired from an exhausting day of coming up with ideas to make the bank a more efficient place. He put his feet up on the coffee table and looked up expectantly at the spiral staircase that led to the bedroom where Steve was currently changing clothes. 

After a few minutes, Bucky heard Steve’s footsteps coming down from the bedroom above. First his red boots became visible as Steve slowly sauntered his way down the small iron staircase. The outfit clung to every contour of Steve’s body, from his tapered waist to his wide, bulky shoulders. 

“Wow!” Bucky exclaimed, “You look so sexy, Steve!”

Steve approached Bucky, trying to suppress his grin. He spun around once in the outfit, giving Bucky a full view of his well sculpted ass in the tight pants. Bucky couldn’t take his eyes off of Steve. 

“Isn’t it fabulous?” Said Steve in his excitement. 

“I would do anything for my man,” Said Bucky proudly, leaning back and lifting his hands to cradle the back of his head. He surveyed Steve hungrily.  
 Bucky and Steve startled as suddenly the door to their house was flung open. Clint Barton came through the door without so much as a knock. 

“Oh, hey guys!” He said, as if surprised that his friends were in the living room of their own home.

Steve reluctantly broke eye contact with Bucky, meeting Clint’s gaze with a half hearted smile. 

Bucky couldn’t even put that much effort into being excited to see Clint, having to suppress the urge to roll his eyes and scowl. 

“Oh, hi Clint,” he grunted.

Clint sauntered happily into the room, not reading the unwelcoming atmosphere. He glanced between Bucky and Steve, then whipped his head back around to take in the sight of Steve in his new outfit.   “Wow!” He said breathlessly, “Look at you!”

“It’s from Bucky,” Steve said, looking down with a blushing smile.

“Anything for my prince!!” Bucky chortled. 

“How much was it?” Clint blurted.

Steve laughed incredulously, “Clint, don’t ask a question like that.”

Bucky stood up from the couch, interrupting the awkward line of conversation. “Nice to see you, Clint,” he said, then turned to Steve. “I’m going to go take a nap,” He hinted with a flirtatious smile. Steve grinned back. 

“Can I go upstairs too?” asked Clint hopefully.

Bucky guffawed whole heartedly, with a sly glance at Steve. 

“Clint, I think I’m going to join him,” said Steve. Bucky guffawed again in the same unnerving way he had moments before, with a strange breathy punctuation between each burst of strangely flat laughter. Bucky took Steve’s hand, leading him up the spiral staircase. Clint remained in the living room pensively. He heard snatches of conversation, about candles and clothing removal. Clint picked up an apple from the table and chewed it thoughtfully, before creeping his way up the stairs behind his two friends. 

Steve tossed Bucky onto the the bed. Bucky fell backwards chuckling seductively. Steve crawled onto the bed on his knees. Bucky picked up a pillow and chucked it at Steve with a wooshing noise. Thus began a weak and half hearted pillow fight, their preferred erotic foreplay. The white canopy of their bed rustled with the movement, and the sound of their laughter echoed through the room as Clint reached the top of the stairs. Seeing the pillow fight, Clint hurled himself into the fray, eliciting uproarious laughter from the other two. They beat each other senseless with pillows, tangled together on the red satin sheets. Bucky began holding Clint in place and tickling him while Steve looked on in laughter.  
 Everything began to calm down, all three of the friends red in the face from exertion and merriment. Bucky sighed and asked, “Clint, don’t you have something else to do?”

Clint looked down with a smile, “I just like to watch you guys.”

Steve chuckled fondly, smoothing his hand over Clint’s head. “Oh, Clinty, Clinty, Clinty boy.” 

“Clint, two’s great but three’s a crowd,” admonished Bucky with a strained chuckle. Steve and Bucky’s eyes met, then they turned their focus back to Clint. A short awkward silence followed as Clint’s eyes flicked between Bucky and Steve. 

“I get it,” He sighed resignedly, “You guys want to be alone.”

“That’s the idea!” Bucky exclaimed, and Steve raised his eyebrows at his boyfriend with a grin. 

“Fine,” said Clint, rising from the bed, “I have homework to do anyway. Bye, lovebirds.”

“Bye Clint,” Chimed Bucky and Steve. 

The couple watched Clint dejectedly descend the staircase. Once he was safely out of sight, Steve slowly leaned forward, giving Bucky a wet kiss, then another. He playfully pushed Bucky’s chest, who obligingly fell back onto the bed with a laugh. They began throwing pillows at one another again, very erotically.

Bucky couldn’t explain why he felt this way about Steve. All he knew for sure was that he couldn’t live in a world without his boyfriend. There’s nothing he wouldn’t do, for Steve was his fantasy, his dream come true. When Bucky saw Steve’s face, it stirred every possible emotion in him, and inspired his devotion.

Because Bucky truly felt he would do anything for Steve - stand in the way of a bullet, or wander a forest of flames. He would climb any mountain, even the highest, just to show Steve that he loved him.  
 They began waltzing slowly back and forth, then Steve slowly removed the coat of Bucky’s suit from his shoulders, pulling him into a deep kiss. He removed Bucky’s tie, twirling it around with them as they waltzed. He hooked it behind Bucky’s neck and pulled him into another kiss.  
Steve found himself pushed onto the bed, and he unbuttoned Bucky’s shirt, which he pulled back, revealing his rippling muscles. The shirt seemed to get caught behind Bucky’s bent elbows, until Steve slowly twisted the shirt off of him.

Steve procured a red rose and began teasing Bucky with it, dragging it over his pecs. Bucky, unbelievably turned on after being stroked by a flower, promptly unbuckled his belt and unzipped his jeans. He pulled Steve into a kiss so powerful that Steve dropped the rose, all but forgotten. 

Rain streamed down the windows, or else there was a small clear waterfall literally inside of Steve and Bucky’s bedroom. Either way, the water only contributed to the ambiance, swelling Steve and Bucky’s libido. Tall red candles smoldered next to the unidentifiable source of water. Bucky retrieved the rose that had fallen earlier and began plucking the petals, dropping them over Steve’s now bare chest.   Both naked suddenly, Bucky pulled himself on top of Steve and began thrusting somewhere in the general vicinity of Steve’s navel. The sheets curled around the couple, barely covering Bucky’s exposed ass. Steve moaned as Bucky’s rhythm increased, and somehow Steve’s abs managed to make Bucky moan as he thrusted into them. Somehow. Steve dragged his arm around Bucky’s back, clutching at his shoulders in ecstasy at this completely sexual, apparently penetrative act. Bucky gyrated on top of Steve’s stomach for a long time, moaning, until the two collapsed backwards into bed, thoroughly twisted into the sheets. 

The pair sighed, Steve draped over Bucky’s chest. Night fell just as they fell into each others arms in a post coital embrace.


	2. Red

The piercing trill of the alarm shattered the early morning silence of :28 am. Bucky fumbled with the clock, pulling it into bed with him. He read it with a groan, tossing it to the floor and flopping over onto his back.

He pushed himself up and grabbed a rose from the bedside table, drawing it to his face and inhaling its aroma. He looked back at his sleeping lover and gently placed the rose next to Steve on the pillow that he’d been sleeping on moments earlier.

Bucky stood from the bed and made the long trek to the bathroom. That walk felt like it extended into infinity as Bucky’s tight cheeks rose and fell with every step, the chiseled lines of his back and the angular curve of his shoulders trumped by the all encompassing, inevitable, in-your-face existence of his ass. He opened the door and entered the bathroom, closing the door and obscuring his butt from the vantage point of the room.

Later, Bucky returned to the room, now dressed, to find Steve absorbed in smelling the red rose that Bucky left on his pillow before his ass-centric romp to the shower. Steve puckered his lips at the flower as if showing it affection. Bucky came up behind Steve and leaned down over his still-naked boyfriend and kissed him on the cheek. Steve raised his head and smiled into the kiss.

“Did you like last night?” Bucky crooned.

“Yes I did,” Steve said, smiling. Bucky chuckled and kissed Steve again.

“Can I get you anything?” Steve asked. Bucky drew the rose, still in Steve’s hand, to his nose, inhaling this extremely aromatic flower once again. He shook his head, “I have to go now.”

“Okay,” said Steve.

“Bye,” Bucky drawled.

“Bye,” Steve murmured. When Bucky had turned away, Steve let his head drop back down, curling into his pillow.

-

The brownstone stood elegantly in the sun, shining brightly on a typical summer day in Brooklyn.

Inside the apartment, a knock sounded on the door. Steve made his way to the door, past the red curtains, illuminated by the mid afternoon light.   Steve opened the door.

“Hi Nat how are you,” he stated flatly as Natasha made walked into the apartment.

Natasha walked in, her red hair clashing with the red blouse that camouflaged her well in Steve and Bucky’s entirely red apartment. She kissed Steve on the cheek.

“I’m fine, how are _you?_ ” she asked, pinching Steve on the chin. Steve remained silent. Nat studied him, pushing the door closed behind her. “Hmm?”

When Steve still refused to respond, she gently placed her hands on his shoulders,

“Okay,” she said, guiding Steve further into the living room, “Let’s go to the couch,”

Steve rolled his eyes but obliged and let Natasha guide him. “And we will sit down,” Natasha continued, removing her purse.

The pair sat.   “Now,” said Natasha sternly, “What’s happening with you? What is going on?”

“Nothing much,” said Steve glumly, “Do you want some coffee?”

Natasha fixed Steve with a searching look. “What’s wrong? Tell me.”

 Steve hesitated with a small shrug. “I’m not feeling good today.”

“And why not?” Natasha probed.

Steve breathed in, mentally preparing himself for the massive bombshell he was about to drop.

“I don’t love him anymore,” he stated cleanly, with a small, “there it is” gesture of his hands.

“Why don’t you love him anymore?” Natasha asked without missing a beat. “Tell me.”

“He’s so…” Steve’s face twisted with frustration, “ _Boring_.”

“Well you’ve known him for over five years,” Natasha leveled exposition-ally, “You’re engaged.” Steve looked away with disgust.

“You said you loved him,” Natasha continued, “He supports you, he provides for you, and darling, you can’t support yourself.” Steve narrowed his eyes in anger, but he couldn’t deny anything Natasha was saying.   “He’s a wonderful man, and he loves you very much. And his position is very secure,” She paused for emphasis, placing her hands on Steve’s arm, “And, he told me he plans to buy you a house,”

 “That’s why he’s so boring!” Steve cried in frustration.

“Well, what are you going to do?”

“I don’t know,” Steve paused thoughtfully, a small smile playing across his features. “I don’t mind living with him.”

“Well you can’t do that,” Natasha scolded, “Have you talked to him about it?”

Steve looked away.

“No, I don’t know what to do,” he said, eyes flicking to Natasha’s face in desperation.

“Well, he’s a wonderful person,” said Natasha fondly, “And he’s getting a promotion very soon. Now he bought you a car, he bought you a ring, clothes, whatever you wanted, and now you want to dump him,” she sighed in exasperation, “That’s not right. I’ve always thought of him as my favorite assassin. You should marry Bucky, he would be good for you.”

“I guess you’re right about that,” Steve admitted.

“Well, of course I’m right. I know men! I wasn’t born yesterday,” Steve lowered his gaze looking mildly disgusted at Natasha’s impassioned speech, “I’m glad you’re listening to me. Nobody else listens to me.”

“You’re probably right about that, Nat,” said Steve with a small, nasty smile.

“Well I’m glad you’re listening.” Natasha pushed herself up from the couch, despite the fact that she had arrived only minutes earlier. “Listen, I’ve got to go. But remember what I told you, okay?” She pressed her pointer finger lightly to Steve’s nose.

She pointed one last time at Steve’s face. “Mhm, bye now.”

Once the door closed behind Natasha, Steve rolled his eyes away, glaring into thin air. “Thanks, Nat,” he spat sarcastially.

-

Thin white gauze curtains billowed dramatically behind Steve as he dialed a phone number, tossing his head as he pressed the phone to his ear.

On the other end of the line, Sam Wilson picked up the phone from where he sat in his parked car.

  
 “Hey, baby, how you doing?” Steve said flirtatiously.

“Oh, hey, how you doing?” Sam replied hurriedly, missing the seductive note in Steve’s greeting. “Yeah, I’m very busy, what’s going on?” He continued to sit, alone, in his parked car.

“I just finished talking to Nat,” Steve grumbled, “She gave me this big lecture about Bucky.”  

“Look, we’ll talk about it later,” Sam interrupted, “I told you, I’m very busy!” Parked car.

“We’ll talk about it now!” demanded Steve, “Whenever you say we’ll talk about it later, we never do. I can’t wait till later. I want to talk right now. You owe me one anyway.”

 Sam snorted out a laugh. “Okay, alright, what do you want to talk about?”

 “She’s a stupid bitch,” Steve spat, “She wants to control my life. I’m not going to put up with that. I’m going to do what I want to do, and that’s it.”

Steve paused thoughtfully. “What do you think I should do?”

“I mean, why do you ask me?” Sam asked, puzzled, “You know, you’ve been very happy with Bucky.”

Steve listened angrily on the other end of the line. Sam continued, “What do you want me to say? I mean, you should enjoy your life.” He paused, “What’s the problem?”

“Maybe,” Steve said will an ill timed pause, a small mischievous grin on his face, as though he had suddenly hatched a very duplicitous plot in his head. “You’re right. Can I see you tomorrow?”

“Okay!” Sam replied cluelessly, “Alright, how about noon?”

“I’ll be waiting for you,” Steve said cryptically, “Bye.”

“Alright, see you,” Sam hung up the phone.


	3. My Rose

The G train shone silver as it made its way across the Gowanus Canal bridge. The dark windows reflected the shadows of the surrounding buildings. It rocked gently back and forth as it exited the tunnel at Carroll street. It honked its horn to warn people on the platforms of its arrival. Within the train, passengers hurriedly checked their phones, eyes glued to the screens for the brief moment of cell phone reception above ground. The train chugged away, making its way towards Smith - 9th Streets. The sun was setting, light cresting the tracks as the G train continued to crawl along at a maddeningly slow pace. 

The doorbell rang and Steve rushed to answer it. He opened the door, and a large grin spread over his features. He lingered, steadying the door with his hand as Sam stepped through the door and into Steve and Bucky’s home. 

“Hi!” He said with a grin. “How are you doing?” 

“Fine, come in,” said Steve. He placed one hand on Sam’s forearm, the other on his shoulder, leading Sam further into the apartment. He leaned onto Sam from behind, both hands now on his shoulders. 

“Have a seat,” Steve herded Sam into a chair, his hand lingering on the his back as they gazed into each others eyes. He circled behind Sam, dragging his hand along the line of his arms and shoulders which he had comfortably sprawled out. Steve traced his fingertips along Sam’s face, then cradled the back of his head. The two of them remained silence, Sam in bewildered cluelessness and Steve in devious seduction. 

Steve pulled himself away from Sam. Sam’s gaze was drawn to Steve’s ass as Steve bent over the table to pour the two of them some wine. He was wearing his most form fitting, erotic khakis.

 Steve turned back to Sam with a grin, handing him a glass of wine. Sam’s eyes flickered between the wineglass in his hand and Steve. “Thank you?” He stuttered, more a question than a show of gratitude.

Steve looked down at Sam, a coy smile twisting at his lips. He toyed with the top button of his flannel shirt.

“Its… Hot in here…” he purred. “Do you mind?”

 Sam’s eyes widened. He shook his head vigorously. “No.”

 Steve removed his shirt, revealing nothing but a skin tight white tank top. His pecs and abs were clearly outlined by every ripple in the thin fabric. His arms were thick and muscular. Steve looked seductively over his powerful shoulders as Sam’s gaze darted wildly along the length of Steve’s body. Steve moved closer, eyes fixed on Sam’s face as he dragged his fingertips along Sam’s arm once again.   
 Sam swallowed hard, smiling nervously. His eyed continued to flit over Steve’s godlike physique, but he let out a strained chuckle. 

“I mean, the candles…” he said in the candle-less room, “the music,” he continued in the silence, “the sexy khakis, I mean, what’s going on here?”

Steve smiled widely, setting his wine glass down on the table. He slowly lowered himself onto Sam’s lap, creeping up closer to his face.   
 “I like you. Very much…” Steve paused, “Lover… Boy…” He stroked the side of Sam’s face, knowing the effect that the titillatingly erotic nickname would have on Sam. 

“What are you doing this for?” Sam asked desperately with an alarmed smile plastered across his face. 

“What’s the matter?” Steve pouted theatrically, continuing to steadily stroke Sam’s face, “Don’t you like me? I’m your boy?”

Sam closed his eyes, gathering himself. He raised his hand and stopped Steve’s petting.   “Bucky’s my best friend,” said Sam, curling their hands together away from his face. Steve’s dreamy expression turned poisonous and he glared at Sam. “You’re going to be married next month. Come on!”

Steve leaned in close to Sam’s face, bringing his hand to the back of Sam’s head and gently pulling his fingertips down. “Forget. About Bucky.” He pulled his head back, tilting it sideways. “This is between you and me.”

Sam paused, letting his gaze wander over Steve before he squeezed his eyes shut in frustration. He grabbed Steve’s hand in his own, pulling it away from his face. He shook his head. “I don’t think so,” he said shakily, pushing at Steve in a motion to stand from the chair and setting his wine back on the table. “I’m leaving now.”

Steve pushed Sam back in the chair, grabbing his face, stroking him more aggressively. “Please don’t leave. I need you. I love you!!” he shouted in desperation. Suddenly he looked tearful and panicked. “I don’t want to get married anymore. I don’t love Bucky. I dream about you.” He continued to stroke at the hairs at the nape of Sam’s neck.

“I need you to make love to me,” Steve said with a dire finality, fixing Sam with an intense gaze.

Steve leaned in as if to kiss Sam, but Sam gently put his hands over Steve’s, moving him away. “I don’t think so,” he whispered gently, “Everything is going to be fine, I promise.”

Steve stood suddenly, pulling Sam up by his hands. He slowly placed Sam’s hands on the sides of his own head, then drew him into an open-mouthed kiss. Sam stood awkwardly for a moment, unsure of what to do, before yielding to Steve’s mouth on his lower lip. Steve seemed to be making out with more of Sam’s chin than his actual mouth, but this only stirred Sam’s interest more, and they kissed deeply. 

Steve drew away for a moment, and Sam gazed at him searchingly, feeling lost and looking for answers. How could he do this to his best friend, with his other best friend? His eyes were wide and lost, but Steve took him by the hand and led him further into the apartment. Sam sullenly followed. 

Sam’s touch was like a fire pouring out of him. His touch was like the wind crashing into Steve. His kiss was as gentle as a summer breeze. Steve felt that Sam’s love would set him free. A rose is what Sam was to him. 

Steve laid down on the steel staircase, dragging Sam down on top of him. Sam ran his hand over Steve’s calves, up his thighs. He pulled Steve into a short kiss, and Steve began unbuttoning Sam’s shirt, but left it on, so it was just sort of hanging open, Sam’s chest exposed but his shoulders and arms nice and cozy warm, which might be important while you’re fucking on a steel staircase. They made out, moaning. Steve pressed a strange kiss to the bottom of Sam’s chin, eliciting another extremely sexual moan. Steve proceeded to pull one of Sam’s shoulders out of his shirt, surveying Sam’s bare chest appraisingly. Steve then awkwardly pulled the back of his hand up the center of Sam’s stomach and pecs.

Steve let out a breathy gasp as Sam did absolutely nothing. He literally wasn’t even in the shot with Steve but Steve was so turned on at the thought of getting to be with Sam that he moaned orgasmically just thinking about it. Sam then appeared from above, pressing a kiss to Steve’s moaning mouth. 

They continued to make out, gasping each others’ names and moaning loudly, still fully clothed. Steve let his hand trail down Sam’s bare back. Sam nuzzled into Steve’s neck, now shirtless, as Steve let his hand rest right above Sam’s butt crack, just inside the waistline of his jeans. They made out some more, Steve sucking on Sam’s neck as Sam groaned with pleasure. The pair began to gyrate with pleasure and moan as Sam made general thrusting movements above the belt. 

Sunlight slanted through the blinds, leaving stripes of light over the couple as they moaned and groaned their way to orgasm on a metal spiral staircase. 

After, Steve self consciously tugged at the tank top that had remained on during the entirety of Sam and Steve’s make-out and apparent sex session. He dragged a hand through his hair and Sam sighed enormously. 

“God, why did you do this to me?!” he said accusatorially. “Why? Bucky is my best friend!” Sam looked off into the distance. 

“Didn’t you enjoy it?” Steve asked, offended and hurt.  

“That’s not the point,” Sam said.

“I love you, Sam,” whispered Steve. 

Sam shook his head, looking away. “Look, you’re very attractive, I mean, you’re beautiful!” Sam sad passionately, “But we can’t do this anymore. I can’t hurt Bucky,” He said if he hadn't just been consensually gyrating on top of Steve moments before.

“I know, he’s your best friend,” Steve reminded Sam. 

Sam placed a hand on Steve’s knee. “Hey. This’ll be our secret.”

 Steve put his hands on Sam’s shoulders and they drew each other into a sloppy kiss.


	4. 18

The sun was shining brightly in Brooklyn as average pedestrians milled about. Cars jostled and honked in the midday traffic, drivers aggressive and unyielding. The high rises in the center of the borough gradually tapered out, giving way to the smaller, historical architecture of the residential neighborhoods.

Bucky pulled up to his local bodega in his small white sedan that he has apparently had this whole time despite his excessive use of the G train. A red “open” sign flickered in the window, while fresh produce and flowers bordered the sidewalk, colorful and inviting. Bucky jerkily parallel parked in front of the store and slowly removed himself from the vehicle.  
 He jauntily strolled through the already open door. He announced himself with an exuberant “Hi!” that contrasted with his stormy facade, an all black suit with a drab olive shirt.

Nick Fury milled about behind the counter wearing his trademark bright red polo shirt. “Can I help you?” he asked pleasantly without apparently looking up from whatever he was doing moments before, or recognizing Bucky’s thick accent from… Brooklyn. 

Bucky pushed up his slimy black sunglasses into his slimy black hair. “Yeah can I have a dozen red roses please?”

“Oh hi Bucky I didn’t know it was you!” Nick said. He leaned over sideways, grabbing a pre-arranged bouquet of red roses for Bucky. “Here you go.”

“That’s me!” exclaimed Bucky, fiddling with the money in his metal fingers. “How much is it?”

“That’ll be eighteen dollars,”

“Here you go keep the change,” said Bucky, throwing down a twenty. Nick’s treasured pug sat happily on the counter. Bucky pet the pup’s head, “Hi doggy!”

“You’re my favorite customer,” sighed Nick adoringly. 

“Thanks a lot, bye!” Bucky cried over his shoulder, charging towards the exit, holding the bouquet of flowers upside down for some reason. 

“Bye bye!” Nick called after Bucky, who did a little jog out into the street and back into his car.


	5. Crazy

Pale evening light slanted through the windows, reflecting the shadow of the panes onto the door as Steve closed it behind him, holding the home phone in one hand that he had been walking around outside with. He walked into the dark apartment.

“Yeah, delivery. 555-4828. Half Canadian bacon with pineapple,” Steve’s all American, classic favorite. “Half artichoke with pesto and light on the cheese. Thanks.” Steve hung up the phone Bucky’s quirky taste in green pizza had been one of his endearing qualities that Steve had fallen in love with. He felt the bitterness of love lost seep through him like grease through the bottom of a cardboard pizza box. Steve only had a few moments to linger on this thought before the doorbell rang. 

“Who is it?” he enquired, making his way towards the door curiously.

“Clint!” said Clint.

Steve pulled the door open to reveal Clint. 

“Hey, Clint, how are you doing?” Steve asked politely of his guest. 

“I’m fine, what’s new?” Clint asked.

“Actually, I’m really busy,” Steve said, standing alone in a dark and empty apartment. “Do you want something to drink?”

“No thanks,” Clint’s eyes wandered around the room, “I just wanted to talk to Bucky,” Clint’s eyes suddenly focused, his gaze drawn down to Steve’s rippling pectorals and bare arms in his black tank. His eyes roved back to Steve’s earnest face. 

 “You look handsome today!” Clint exclaimed, and a gleaming lit up Steve’s features. Clint leaned forward, his grin reflecting Steve’s own, “Can I kiss you?”

Steve snorted out a surprised laugh. “You are such a little brat!”

“I’m just kidding!” he backpedaled, “I love you and Bucky!”

“Okay, okay,” Steve sighed, a small smile lingering on his face. “Bucky’s going to be here any minute. You can wait if you want.”

“I gotta go,” said Clint, reminding Steve that he was also incredibly busy, “You’ll tell him I stopped by?”

  “Of course I will,” said Steve.

“Bye,” said Clint, darting backwards through the door.

“Bye Clint,” Steve mumbled, moving back towards the couch. 

-

The white sedan pulled onto the street in front of his brownstone. A bus rolled past as he was parking, reminding Bucky of the constant erratic pace of New York City. People bustling about, always with somewhere to be and something to do. He felt peaceful in the embrace of his steady relationship and comfortable home. 

Bucky pushed through the door, one arm crooked behind his back. Steve grinned up at him from where he lay lounging sideways on the couch, engrossed in a book. He pushed himself up, meeting Bucky halfway into the room. 

“Hi babe,” Bucky said, pulling the dozen red roses out from behind his back and pulling them up so they bloomed out from under his craggy face. “These are for you.”

“Thanks honey, they’re beautiful!” Steve took the roses and leaned forward to plant a kiss on Bucky’s cheek. He leaned back, raising his eyebrows questioningly. “Did you get your promotion?”

Bucky drew back his mouth into an unhappy line, scrunching up his eyebrows and pulling his shoulders up into a slight shrug, “Naaaahh,” he sighed.   Bucky pushed past Steve, who had an affronted look on his face, eyes blown wide. He clutched the flowers to his chest as Bucky planted himself on the couch. 

Steve circled his way around the coffee table. “You didn't get it, did you?” he asked as he stuffed the flowers into the vase that he was obviously holding this whole time. Steve hadn’t picked up on the nuances Bucky’s evasive body language, negative facial expressions, or literal answer to his initial question. 

“That son of a bitch told me that I would get it within three months. I’ve killed bundles of people. They’re crazy. I don’t think I will ever get it!” Bucky ranted, “They betray me, they didn’t keep their promise, they tricked me, and I don’t care anymore.” he said, caring passionately.

“Did you tell them how many people you’ve assassinated?”

“Of course, what do you think?!” He growled,”They already put my killing methods into practice. Hydra kills people, and they are using me, and I am the fool.”

“I still love you!” Steve lied with a grin, thinking of a betrayal of his own. His fully clothed body rubbing against Sam’s. 

“You’re the only one who does,” Bucky sighed angstily, unaware of the bite behind Steve’s words. 

“At least you have friends. I didn’t get any calls today.” Steve nodded minutely, “You’re right. The superhero business is too competitive.”

The couple gazed at each other for a few moments. 

“Do you want me to order a pizza?” Steve asked with a small smile playing at his lips.

“Whatever, I don’t care,” Bucky slurred.

“I already ordered a pizza,” Steve said with a cocky grin.

“You think about everything!” Bucky chuckled halfheartedly. 

“What’s the matter? Are you alright?” Steve asked, concerned, missing the usual vigor behind Bucky's unnerving laughter. Bucky looked down at his feet, shoulders slumped. “It’s just a lousy promotion.”

“You know what you need?” Steve asked with a smirk, and the tone in his voice caused Bucky to lift his eyes to his boyfriend, “You need a drink.”

Bucky laughed incredulously, “I don’t drink, you know that!”

-

Steve made his way into the room from the kitchen, two glasses of scotch in his hand and a bottle of vodka in the crook of his arm. Bucky looked up at Steve for a few moments before laughing nervously. Steve set the cups on the table, and began pouring several shots worth of vodka over the scotch. Steve handed Bucky a glass, which he looked at reluctantly before eventually taking it in his hand. 

“Don’t worry about it. It’s good for you.” Steve purred.

Bucky shook his head, placing the glass back down on the coffee table. “You must be crazy. I cannot drink this.” He began blinking and staring into the distance in front of him. 

Steve gently curled Bucky’s hand around the glass that he snatched from the table. “If you love me,” he said slowly with a manipulative smile, “you’ll drink this.”

Steve guided the cup to Bucky’s mouth, who began slurping the liquid down and giggling into the sip, spitting and gurgling some of the alcohol back into the cup. Steve chuckled along playfully, gazing at Bucky.

“You’re right,” Bucky admitted with a grin, “it tastes good, heh.”

I know, I am right,” said Steve smugly, slurping from his own glass. “Don’t worry about those fuckers. You’re a good man. Drink and let’s have some fun.” he laughed out the last few words, clinking his glass into Steve’s. The two let out a few breathy chuckles before sipping from their glasses.

-

The pizza lay half eaten and discarded on the table, plates and napkins askew. Steve wielded a full glass of vodka, which he clinked against Bucky’s. He’d removed Bucky’s tie and tied it around his head in a show of drunken spontaneity and reckless behaviour. They chugged their vodka, Bucky humming into his cup. Steve made a small face of distaste before collapsing onto the couch with a giggle. He began laughing hysterically, watching while Bucky continued to drink, before smashing his cup into the ground with a chuckle. 

 “You have nice legs, Steve,” he slurred, supposedly from drink but he didn’t sound particularly different from his regular speech that ran together in a typical Brooklyn manner. Steve laughed, pointing at Bucky and declaring, “You have nice pecs!” before covering his mouth in embarrassment. Bucky threw back his head and guffawed. 

“I’m tired! I’m wasted! I love you darling!” he screamed happily, clutching his side and twitching his upper torso. 

“Come on, make love to me,” Steve stated suddenly from his place on the couch. 

“Gnghngjnjg” Bucky groaned, continuing to clutch his side as though he had prematurely began doing so earlier and had forgotten his cue. 

 “Come on, you owe me one!” Steve begged and reached forward to grab Bucky’s hand as he fell back onto the couch. He pulled Bucky’s arm around his shoulders. 

“I love you, Steve,” said Bucky tenderly. 

  Steve smiled and laughed. “I love you,” he paused, and then tore open the buttons on Bucky’s shirt with his super strength to reveal his toned chest as he murmured, “… Bucky.” He pulled Bucky in for a kiss on either side of his now ruined shirt. 

 The pair began kissing deeply, Bucky moaning loudly in his closed mouth every time Steve surged forward. The kiss grew desperate and hungry as the pair kissed through their respective despair at different aspects of their lives. 

Bucky saw Steve walking by and heard his lullaby. It seemed to reel him in. He really had him hooked from just one little look, and all Steve’s mind could do was spin. He was going crazy, thinking about Bucky. He needed Bucky there with him. Steve’s eyes seduced him until his knees started getting weak. He’d fallen deep for Steve. It could have been the way Steve laughed or a memory from Bucky’s past. Or, it could be that Bucky loved Steve.

The new bouquet of roses stood romantically in the vase by the bed, a candle aflame beside it. 

In bed, Bucky kissed and sucked on Steve’s neck as Steve smiled blissfully. He pushed Bucky back by his shoulder, attempting to pull Bucky into a kiss on the mouth before Bucky cracked up into laughter right in Steve’s face. He bumped their noses together, then pressed his face back into Steve’s.  

A candelabra of tall red flaming candles stood by the window, obscured by the white gauze curtains of Steve and Bucky’s canopy bed. Steve’s hands roamed over Bucky’s back as he hauled himself on top of Steve.   They lay next to each other, holding each other in their arms. Steve pressed a kiss to Steve’s forehead. 

Bucky began pulling apart a flower, scattering the red petals across Steve’s pecs before Steve became overwhelmed with desire, pulling Bucky back into a kiss with his hands on his face. 

Steve began thrusting into Bucky as they kissed, groaning loudly. Water poured from the ceiling or window or waterfall as they made out and had sex. 

Bucky pulled himself on top of Steve and began thrusting somewhere in the general vicinity of Steve’s navel. The sheets curled around the couple, barely covering Bucky’s exposed ass. Steve moaned as Bucky’s rhythm increased, and somehow Steve’s abs managed to make Bucky moan as he thrusted into them. Somehow. Steve dragged his arm around Bucky’s back, clutching at his shoulders in ecstasy at this completely sexual, apparently penetrative act.

Eventually they dropped back into bed and fell asleep.


End file.
